


You are my Voice

by Anneku



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Male-Female Friendship, grensorship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:55:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27270793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anneku/pseuds/Anneku
Summary: General Amaya was known as the brutal shield guarding the breach. A decorated war hero, fierce warrior ... what possible use could she have for a small, pacifist boy, whose only talent is to avoid fights and censor crude language.My take on the origins of the epic friendship of Gren and Amaya.
Relationships: Amaya & Gren (The Dragon Prince), Corvus & Gren (The Dragon Prince)
Kudos: 18





	1. Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> I am in no way an expert in sign language, I know a few words to sign but apart from that and the alphabet I know nothing.  
> Still I find the friendship between Amaya and Gren one of the most inspired and original I have ever seen in any media!  
> I encourage you to view the Let's Chat video's on youtube,  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=slVU4jzlraI&t=2748s  
> here a detailed explanation is given of the ASL used in the dragon prince and it really opened my eyes to the unique relationship these two characters share, 
> 
> ME TRUST YOU BEFORE VOICE NOW BECOME MYSELF SAVE THOSE BOYS.  
> “I’ve trusted you to be my voice, now become my hands and rescue those boys.”
> 
> I just wanted to explore how they came to be so close.

My father had lost his hearing after an incident a couple years ago, during the border war against Xadia. A blast from the Thunder-monster had crashed next to him, incinerating three of his compatriots. 'Lucky' he was they said. His flesh did not melt but his helmet did when the lightning touched it. The left side of his face was forever brutally scarred. Luckily his eye could be saved. 

I could not imagine the despair and isolation he fell into during his recovery. I could imagine his frustration though, because he shared that with us as often as he could. To the point were my mom went to live back with her family and I was stuck bouncing between them. My young naïve mind figured, the lack of communication was the cause of their separation, maybe it was. And that if I learned enough sign language I could translate their relationship back together again, which definitely wasn’t the solution. 

My father, having no other choice, reluctantly learned some signs. I studied my ass off, and was fluent after five weeks of training. I think my dad felt talking with his hands was unnecessary when he himself was merely deaf and not mute. He felt as if I wanted to be heard, it was my issue not his. Though due to his lack of hearing ‘talking’ was a stretch, screaming mispronounced words, the bigger the confusion the louder he yelled … it scared the crap out of us. After a strongly worded letter from mother, dad had learned the alphabet and deemed that enough to get by. So the first weeks I had to spell out every single word I wanted to say … both of us quickly ran out of patience. 

He found joy again when he realized that you could curse in sign language as well … arguably better, seeing that not as many people could understand you. It did get him in trouble with the few people who did understand though. 

He was not very advanced in lip reading, this was usually remedied by me going along to business deals or social calls to translate/censor for him. We traded in vegetables therefor when dad signed;

TAKE MELONS IN **** BITCH IF NOT FULL PRICE PAY. 

I would translate as “These fine melons are worth a fair price, we do not wish to haggle today.” 

Or 

I FOUGHT IN WAR, WHILE YOU HIDE IN BAR STUPID FOOL FREE BOOZE YOU SHOULD GIVE ME

Became “I’m a decorated war veteran, give me a free drink once in a while.” 

Though I could not overdo it. If I was too liberal with my translations, I received a cuff to the ear. It was a constant battle of compromise between him wanting to piss people off, and me wanting to keep him alive. So I became an expert in walking the thin line between conveying his actual intent and diplomacy. I could have talked him out of so many bar brawls. It was pointless though because he wanted to fight, never mind he could never hear the other guys ganging up on him from behind. 

I tried to reunite him with mom, but every time it resulted in the same toxic outcome. Mom saw through my censorship, dad was too bitter to give their relationship another chance … I gave up all together and for the first time ever I had forgone my censorship in the wrong company and landed us both at the doctors’. 

Of course this was all my fault, I had always preferred to talk myself out of an argument and therefore had never been in a real fist fight … sorry I’m censoring again 

YOU SOFT, ALL TALK NO MUSCLE, NO REAL MAN 

On this unfortunately both my parents agreed, it was time for me to join the army and let them toughen me up. I didn’t know who was going to translate for my father from now on, and frankly I didn’t care anymore. He wanted me gone, to the same place that ruined his life … fine. 

I packed my bags and left for basic training the next morning.


	2. Challenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gren prepares for the challenge of his lifetime ... too bad he has no fighting instincts whatsoever.

Basic training was hell, I hated the physical exercise, I hated the barracks and above else I hated the overly eager soldiers in training. All of them were showing off what they could do, all of them were leagues ahead of me. The only thing I could stand were the drill sergeants ... didn’t that make me the biggest teachers’ pet of all time. It wasn’t that I enjoyed their company per se, they were just familiar … the only thing that I was capable of dealing with.

Also, never before had I been accused of being quiet or silent. Seven years of sign language communication with my father, however, had changed the way I expressed myself. Apparently I turned less vocal in my communication and no one here seemed to read body language very well. So I was the wallflower teachers’ pet … oh and I LOVED my new nickname;

“Hey freckles, come over here, we need a fourth for our game.” my naïve ass was excited for a moment … of course they just needed a moving mark for target practice. So here I was standing in a barrel with a literal target painted on my chest … wasn’t I the biggest fool?

“Come on freckles, we need to practice for the upcoming challenges, some of us don’t want to be dragon fodder you know.” How they made my blood boil. By chance Aaron, the instigator, missed.

“Wow, luckily for you the dragons are bigger targets huh.” I rebuffed, his jaw clenched and his fist tightened around his bow. Clarice standing behind him laughed and the corner of Aarons' mouth twitched in a clear sign of frustration. He lost focus and missed a second time, though I could feel the arrow just barely grazing my unprotected leg.

“Maybe we should find a bigger target for you? The barracks perhaps?” Clarice actually snorted in laughter, causing the others to gniffle along. Luckily for me Aaron turned around in a fury and socked Clarice right in the kisser. As they fought amongst themselves it created the ideal opportunity for me to sneak out of the training fields.

I passed one of the drill sergeants, “If I were you, private Gren, I would spend some extra time in the training fields.” He said.

“It is too rowdy for me at the moment, sir.” I said, it wasn’t a nice move on my part to sick the instructor on them like this … on the other hand they forced me in a barrel. They were ordered to run circles around the training camp to get rid of the excessive energy … I grinned every time they passed my barrack. It was the best night sleep I had in a while.

Of course I paid for that stunt a couple of days after. One on one combat training kicked up a notch and we were paired off for sword training. By that evening, every inch of my body was bruised and sore. There was no reasoning your way out of obligatory one on one combat.

I could hear the disappointed _tsks_ of my superiors and teaching supervisors. Their advice blended together until I just started tuning it out … there was too much to teach me, and too little time to absorb it all.

 _Don’t block like that, you’re leaving yourself open, don’t hold your sword like this, your footwork needs work, now you’re telegraphing, try to anticipate your opponent’s movements, don’t go for the obvious attack_ … everything I did was wrong somehow and if I did something right it was considered as the most basic thing every child had figured out by the age of five … great.

“If I were you, I would prepare myself for the vanguard. I hear dragon fire burns through armor as if it was nothing.” Aaron mocked. I tried not to show it but their taunts did get to me, I had seen first hand what a dragon attack could do … and my father was one of the lucky ones. One night I dreamed my face was burned like his. I woke up screaming, and the others had one more thing to tease me about.

I knew I would never excel in the spear fighting or sword fighting, so the archery division seemed to be the most reachable division for me.

In the challenge to come, you either had to get a passable grade in all divisions or absolutely excel in one … I was the biggest failure of both spear and sword, so my only chance not to be divided in the vanguard was to be in the top of the archery division. I had one week time to master this.

I spend all my practice hours and any free time I had in the archery ring … and after a week, my fingers were bloody, my shoulders and neck hurt with every movement. But worst of all, I could barely hit the mark at the minimal required distance. I was sore, hurting and terrified. Tears were spilling over my cursed, freckled cheeks as I tried in vain to hit the mark on the eve of challenge day.

Corporals, Lieutenants, Sergeants and even a couple of generals started pouring in the camp. Training officers proudly presented their favorite recruits.

“Look out for Shira tomorrow sir you’ve never seen anyone shoot a bow like she can.” I heard, and when I watched her demonstration I had to agree. She hit a target I couldn’t even see from my hiding spot, dead center … three times in a row. The arrows, each one impaled by the next. She deserved the spot, I knew it she probably spend all her free time preparing for this day … I just didn’t want to die, which I would … after a minute in any kind of real combat situation. I cursed my father, if I didn’t spend all of my free time translating and mediating for him, maybe I would have a better shot tomorrow. Though something inside of me told me even if my circumstances had been better, the chance I would be passable in any division was just laughable.

I loaded another arrow on my bow and tried again, because it was the only thing I could do. I felt a hand underneath my elbow to give my arm a brusque nudge. Startled I let my arrow fly wide and turned around, fists in the air, thinking it was Aaron and his flunkies. I was shocked to see higher officers standing behind me … I must have really been out of it not to hear them sneak up on me.  
A woman had a grasp on my elbow APOLOGIES PRIVATE. She signed one handed.

“Private Gren, this is General Amaya. Show respect.” The small woman accompanying the general said. I was in trouble and straightened instantly and saluted. The general twirled her eyes, but it seemed her frustration wasn’t aimed at me. STAND DOWN she signed, which was translated by her companion.

ELBOW UP, BACK STRAIGHT, EYES ON TARGET, HOLD ARROW CHEEK she signed rapidly. Which was translated as “The general says you should work on your stance, private. Though if you need that much advice now, I don’t see why you should bother now.”

General Amaya frowned and shook her head at the translator. I decided not to come in between and undermine my superior by correcting her interpretation. Instead I tried out the general’s advice, surprisingly the arrow actually hit the target this time … not even close to the center but closer than I had gotten all week.

I turned back to the general who had a surprised smile on her face and nodded.

“Thank you, General.” I said clearly. I knew she could read lips, that much was evident from her interaction with the translator.

“Clean up your equipment private and go to your barrack. It is your own fault for slacking off until now, there is no point in more training now.” She said. I had no choice but to salute with a “Yes Mam.”  
Both of them were gone by the time I had collected the arrows and stowed away the equipment. Stupid Gren, maybe I should have showed off my translator skills, maybe general Amaya could use a … useless soldier at the front … don’t be stupid Gren.

The next day, I had hoped to spot General Amaya in the stands, if only to see a friendly face. But it was too packed to recognize anyone.

The spear fighting was first, starting off with an accuracy demonstration and combat afterwards. To the great amusement of the audience, my spear didn’t make it halfway to its intended target. So I didn’t have any other choice but to bow with a flourish and retrieve my spear for the combat part.

I waited two hours for my turn and was disarmed before I knew what had happened. Though I was way too clumsy with a spear to have hoped for any other outcome. At least I hadn’t impaled myself. The sword battles took much longer. They had paired the best students against each other to ensure the most interesting matches. My tier group was last and so close to the midday meal that most everyone had vacated the stands to eat. That was the only consolation, that no one of much importance would see my failure.

Aaron was placed in the same tier as me and not happy about it. I had heard he picked a fight with the wrong person the day before, the son of a higher up in fact, and this was his punishment. Though how this was anything other than torture for the rest of us I couldn’t see.

He beat us all, making his victory in the rankings even more pronounced than it would have been had he been in his appropriate tier group. I tried to put up a fight, like the hero in the stories who kept getting up after been beaten down. Too bad they didn’t give any points for comedic relief I would have been at the top, I pulled out all the stops taunting him and even got one hit in when he managed to impale his practice sword in the wall next to me. But in return he smacked me in the face which caused my eye to swell up to twice its size.

As if I needed another handicap. It wasn’t optimal for the archery division of the day, my right eye was pulsing and it was my aiming eye too … though I guess it didn’t matter much. I squared my back, held up my elbow, tried to keep my eye on the target and the arrow at my cheek. I cried out when it accidentally bumped the tender flesh of my swollen face. The audience loved that as well. But I managed to hit the target at least, three times in fact! No where near a bulls-eye of course but still my best score yet.

Enough to give me a passable grade for this division, not enough to save me from a fiery death. One by one the top students were called away. The others were dismissed with a “The rest of you pack your things, you will be divided randomly.”

Clarice and Steward another Aaron flunky were among the same group as me … I never stood a chance.

The embarrassed beyond words, the track back to our barracks was done in silence. My life was over, I would survive until the first attack from Xadia and I would die at the hands of an elf or dragon. I hoped an elf, death by decapitation seemed like the better solution compared to death by dragon fire. The world closed in around me and tears silently fell down my face, I wasn’t the only one.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw an argument ensue. I stopped in my tracks when I noticed it involved general Amaya.

“ I am sorry sir, I do not understand. She is asking for a person called Aesdres to attend the upcoming meeting with her.” The annoying woman from last night, the general was signing

NO NOT AESDRS S E A F R A, LIEUTENANT SEAFRA

“That is what she’s saying Lieutenant Aesdres.” The translator pressed again.

PAPER, PEN, I WRITE FASTER YOU TRANSLATE, wow before the fight broke out, my diplomatic instincts kicked in.

“My apologies for interrupting, Private Gren sir, General Amaya is requesting the presence of Lieutenant Seafra, sir.” It wasn’t at all my place to interrupt in a discussion between higher officers and I could be reprimanded severely … then again what did I have to lose?

FINALLY, THANK YOU PRIVATE. I released a breath of relief.

The supervisor turned an outraged stare towards the translator. “I thought you were the best interpreter we had on hand?”

“I-I- am Sir.” She turned an embarrassingly pink color.

SERGEANT, MEETING I AM LATE. LT SEAFRA PLEASE.

“Ah, of course general.” The sergeant, said after the woman translated with a hiccup. I would have felt for her if I myself wasn’t so distraught. “You can find her in the barracks directing this years fai ….” He had the curtesy to remember I was within earshot. “… below average recruits. Private Gren will show you the way, seeing he is so eager to be of use.”

General Amaya nodded and saluted to dismiss us all, she then nodded towards me.

WE FOLLOW PRIVATE

The appointed translator followed behind, I was supposed to walk behind my superior officer. But if she signed something I wanted to be able to see.

I SAW YOU FIGHTING she signed. I feared as such.

“I wouldn’t call that fighting, general.” I spoke and signed simultaneously, she smiled at that.

BETTER TO HAVE BRAIN AND NO SKILL THAN SKILL AND NO BRAIN.

“Even better to have both.” Her comfort failed to lift my spirits, skill no skill, brain no brain I’ll be dead either way. She patted me so hard on the shoulder, I was all but knocked me to the ground.

THAT FACE DOES NOT FIT YOU, KEEP MOVING, YOU FIND YOUR PLACE SOMEDAY.

I nodded because it was the polite thing to do and I didn’t want another punch to the shoulder. Though from now on my life is out of my own hands, there is nothing for me to find anymore.

We arrived and I left the general and her translator to go pack the few belongings I had. The despair in the room was almost palpable. Though most privates here at least had enough skill to advance in their careers to have prospects. I recognized the few others who like me saw our future clear as day, they were packing as slow as possible, a last futile effort to post-pone that future as much as possible.

That evening we were designated into our assigned divisions.

I was in a trance until I heard my name being called, followed by ‘the breach’.

The breach, front lines, but upside no dragons, downside I’ll probably either die at the hands of a sun-fire elf or trip and fall into the river of lava that surrounds the breach fortress. It was the best possible outcome for me. 

“Hustle, you ride with General Amaya.” He yelled, I saw the general waiting in her full armor, the legendary shield strapped to her back. Was there still some luck left in this world for me? I could feel hope flutter in my chest, amping my heart to beat again with purpose. General Amaya turned to us on her horse when we walked up to her party. She was accompanied by soldiers in similar armor, that would be us in a couple of days.

KEEP UP, FILL YOUR WATER, BREACH IS LONG WALK.

I ran to the tap to fill my waterskin, I soon noticed no one else was following. I looked up to the general, she had held her finger up to the two horsemen beside her, as if to say ‘quiet’. Then she arched her eyebrow at me and motioned to the other recruits … I guess this means I should translate for them? If not I make a fool of myself … Meh, what else is new?

“Err, general Amaya says it will be a long way to the breach and suggests we all fill our water supplies so we don’t fall behind.” Everyone rushed to the tap. _‘wow she is kinder than the rumors say.’ ‘I thought she ruled with an iron fist.’_ General Amaya winked at me and nudged her horse to her soldiers who seemed to be laughing at me, though it does not feel like they are making fun of me.

Huh, this will be interesting.


	3. Hellish day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gren's first days at the Standing Battalions' fortress, enter Corvus :)

We weren’t official members of the standing battalion yet. That was made clear the moment we arrived at the camp. The heat from the lava stream was ever present and we could feel it radiating towards us even from miles in advance. Katolis was not a cold kingdom, but even the hottest summer did not compare to a random day spend at the breach. In total there were twenty chosen and twelve failures amongst the new recruits. Aside from daily training routines we had a lot of chores to complete during which I was most often paired with three other failures; Creedence, Silva and Stewie. 

“Thank heavens we are not a member of the standing battalion yet.” Creedence complained one day on cleanup duty. “Can you imagine having to walk around in armor all day during this heat!” he exclaimed, the three of us nodded in agreement. The heat was so oppressive we were happy to be mopping the floors with cool water. Though the moment Creedence made his exclamation a commander named Veto had entered, retiring age and proud of his position here … we all tensed up and jumped up in a salute, we had messed up and would surely pay for it. 

“So, not even officially recruited yet and you’re already complaining. I swear youths these days. Don’t you realize you are standing in …” his speech on the history of this fortress and the various battles took two hours. Every time we tried to intersect or diverge him he would just bawl over us, ‘In my day …, When Commander Linda was still alive … and You youngsters don’t understand …’ and we knew there was nothing for us to do but nod politely and wait out the storm. He tired out eventually and he looked around confused about how his tangent started in the first place and us left semi-awkwardly to our chores. 

We let out a breath of relief, we believing had narrowly dodged a punishment, unfortunately we got into trouble nonetheless after Commander Carlo entered and yelled at us for taking more than three hours to scrub the floors. 

“Kitchen duty the lot of you.” Creedence had the curtesy to apologize. We followed the commander down into the bowels of the fortress. Down dark staircases I’d yet to explore, I tried to keep track but it all was a maze. Please don’t let me get lost in here. 

“I got some volunteers, put them to work Corvus.” The man, Corvus, looked like he didn’t belong amongst the shiny knights. He had a small beard, ragged clothes and had this on edge look even while peeling potatoes. He smiled ominously. 

“Ha fresh meat, I know just what to do with you.” Silva started to shake at his threat. Commander Carlo decided that was the moment to leave us behind.   
“I need three of you on dishes and one of you to help me peel the potatoes.” Before I knew what happened Silva, Creedence and Stewie had declared their love for dishes and set to work promptly. Which left me behind … great. Corvus was a tall man and I had to crane my neck to look him in the eyes as he sized me up. I could tell he wasn’t very much impressed, but nodded me to the mountain of potatoes.

“So what got you on Carlo’s bad side already?” small talk huh? 

“We took too long to finish our chores.” I answered and started peeling. I had never in my life peeled a potato and sliced off way too much with the skin. I looked over to Corvus he had finished three potatoes, the skins, paper thin … huh yet another thing I fail at. 

“Too busy exploring the creepy castle?” He guessed. 

“… Too busy learning of the history and battles of the great and strong vestiges we have the honor of finding ourselves under.” I paraphrased, “ … sir.” Even if he doesn’t look like part of the standing battalion I should still address him as a superior. Though my explanation must have sounded familiar to him because he burst out in laughter.   
“Ha, I thought Commander Veto had a particularly happy skip in his step today.” Corvus had a twinkle in his eyes, one of which was scarred I noticed now. I tried to focus on peeling the potatoes without removing too much of the meat … but I was taking too long the others finished way before me and were dismissed … so unfair. The least they could do is offer to help me out until we’re all finished.

“What’s your name kid?” Corvus asked suddenly. 

“Gren, sir.” Twenty more potatoes to go, though it didn’t help that Corvus had stopped participating and was scrutinizing me instead.

“I’ve heard about you, you’re the one General Amaya requested specifically.” That was news to my ears. He looked suspiciously and I can’t blame him. 

“I highly doubt it, sir.”

“Nah, they say it was a skinny, pale kid with lots of freckles … so what did you do to impress the general?” I gave him a mean side glare, but I found him to be already smirking at my reaction. 

“Nothing I can think of, sir.” I said honestly. 

“What was your strongest division?” he asked, genuinely interested now … he reminds me of the neighbor my mother used to have, ready to receive gossip on the new people in town. 

“Archery I guess.” That seemed to surprise him. It wasn’t a lie, compared to my skills in sword or spear I was super experienced in the archery division.

“We have no need for archers here.” He stated, yes that I was made aware of. There is only close combat here, the small, curving path of the breach does not allow for long ranged fighters. Usually only the best swordfighters are requested from amongst the recruits. 

Fifteen more potatoes … almost there. 

“How many opponents did you beat in the sword-fighting tournament?” he continued his cross examination. 

“None, sir. Though I did get one hit in.” I smiled as I noticed I was starting to irk him. 

“You must be joking, you are a failure? General Amaya wouldn’t request a failure.” He said cruelly, that stung, but I kept on peeling. Ten more potatoes. “What did you do? Cry and beg her to take you on?” I tried not to give him a mean side eye, my dad had not been a fan of those. 

“I did not beg, sir.” I said, though I would have if I’d thought it would have helped. But I added a cheeky, “I did cry a lot though.” Corvus did not know what to make of me. But hovered above his cooking for the remaining ten potatoes. 

“Is there anything else I can help you with sir?” I asked politely, though I really hoped he would just let me go. 

“Nah, I don’t want you to butcher any more of my vegetables. That’ll be all private Gren, you are dismissed.” He didn’t turn around and just waved me off, uhg, I just wanted this day to end.

**Author's Note:**

> Again I am in no way fluent in ASL or any other form of sign language, if I made any mistakes please let me know.  
> So far I have two chapters ready, I'll update as soon as I write more (though I have to admit It won't be for awhile probably) ;)


End file.
